Gifts

 Last week, I received a text from a friend who referred me to another friend who is writing a book on how to give good gifts. The writer is collecting stories from around the world on good gifts, bad gifts, tangible gifts, experiential gifts, gifts from friends and family, gifts from children, gifts given, gifts received…all things gifts.

 

In thinking of responses to the writer’s prompt, I thought of a slew of stories from my own life…probably the greatest of which is the story of my French horn:

 

When I was a sophomore in high school, I auditioned for and was accepted into a prestigious summer program in instrumental music. The only problem was that I needed my own instrument to attend, and I didn’t own a French horn.

 

I was attending a new high school at the time, so I didn’t think it odd when my band director handed me a brand-new, silver horn one day and told me to try it out. He told me that he was thinking of buying it for the school but wanted my opinion before doing so.

 

It was perfect. It was so very pretty and it played so very well. Even the case was nice! It was a HUGE improvement to the dented up, broken horn that I’d been playing, and I was excited for the school but sad for me because I was going to be moving at the end of the year. My dad had just been relocated with his job.

 

Fast forward to Christmas morning. After my older brother and sister and I opened our gifts, my brother said, “What’s that under the tree?” Completely oblivious, I went to the tree and noticed one more gift for me. It was rather large. At first, I thought it was the stereo I’d been wanting. Then I felt the shape of a French horn case. I thought, “Oh! Wow. My parents must have gotten a good deal on a used horn for me.” I knew that my family didn’t have the money for a new horn at the time.

Then I opened the bag. I immediately recognized the nice case. I started to cry. The whole thing with my band director had been a rouse. My parents had chosen a brand-new, beautiful horn for me and wanted to make sure I liked it before they bought it.

 

As I hugged the horn that Christmas morning, my whole family cried with me. It’s one of the only times I can remember us all crying together. And it was out of sheer happiness and joy.

 

To this day, when I play my not-so-brand-new-anymore silver horn, I think about the sacrifices that my parents must have made to give me that gift. I will never fully understand it, but I will always be grateful. 

 

What about you, friend? What is your gift story—good or bad? Please share. I’d love to hear! And who knows…maybe I’ll refer YOU to the book writer, too! 😊